


Two Extra Passengers

by The_Bentley



Series: Cold Open Fictions [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Biblical References, Bronze Age, Crowley complains a bit but that's Crowley, Crowley's Name is Crawly | Crawley (Good Omens), Developing Friendships, Episode: s01e03 Hard Times, Exploring, Fluff, Humor, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mouse Aziraphale, Pre-Relationship, Prehistoric, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Wings, World Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 13:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19274053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Bentley/pseuds/The_Bentley
Summary: A little writing of three thousand-word chapters exploring what happened after the Noah's Ark vignette in the TV series.





	1. The Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ficlet that came to me when I should have been working on my other writing. But all you writers out there know how are muses are. They don't always give you what you want. 
> 
> Well, I guess with the addition of two more chapters, it really doesn't fit in the ficlet category anymore. Oh well. :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“Blassssted floating zoo.  I should have flown to China to wait thissss out.”_
> 
> Two stowaways drink the night away on Noah's ark.

A loose snake, slithering above deck for some fresh air, roamed undetected by the boat’s passengers as they were asleep in their quarters.  The rain was sometimes more tolerable than the cramped quarters down below; at least it smelled better.

“Blassssted floating zoo.  I should have flown to China to wait thissss out.  Hullo there. . . what’ssss thissss?”

His keen sense of smell had picked up rodent.  Up here?  Not possible.  All the animals saved from the Flood were down below, including the rodents who were miraculously not getting eaten by anything reptilian or feline. 

His flickering tongue picked up the scent again.  Curiosity piqued, he slithered silently after it.  About a meter away from it, he picked up a heat signature.  Something mouse-sized was hiding behind the empty barrels lining the humans’ quarters.  He wriggled his way into the space between them and the wall, flushing "something" out.

A white mouse?  Did he see that right?  The mice representing several different species were all brown.  He struck, rapidly catching the mouse up in his coils where he could hold it tightly to examine it.  It was a white mouse.  With sky blue eyes.

“Jesus Christ, is that you, Aziraphale?”

“I hope you’re not using that anachronism around humans, Crawly.  He’s not scheduled to make an appearance on Earth for quite some time.”  The mouse smoothed down the fur ruffled by Crawly’s coils.  He was not wet, having stayed under the overhang of the humans' quarters.  “How do you know about that anyway?”

“Well, Raphael turned up drunk in a tavern I was at complaining about how Gabriel got the gig of telling the future mother-to-be.  He was too far gone to realize he was talking to a demon.”  The snake moved out of the rain.  “Can we go inside where it’s warm and dry?  I came up for some air, but now I could use some wine.”

He shifted to his human form, snapped his fingers to put all the people on board into a deep sleep and headed inside to the rather cramped galley.  Aziraphale hurriedly scurried after him, now also human-shaped.   An irritated look crossed his face as he saw Crawly grab a couple of clay mugs then pour wine from the skin setting beside the last few loaves of carefully wrapped bread on the wooden shelves against the far wall.

“What are you doing?  They _need_ that.  Everything’s rationed here!”

“I’ll put it back when I’m done.  It’s not like I can’t do magic or anything.  Want some?”

Aziraphale gave up, defeated by that logic.  “Please.”

“What are you doing here anyway?  I thought you headed off to Asia for a while.”

Aziraphale took a seat on the bench at the rough wooden table.  Crawly had already taken a load off on the bench across from him, swirling his wine about in his cup.

“Well, I was instructed to keep an eye on the family.  Make sure they and the animals stay safe until the waters recede.  So far I’ve spent a lot of time hiding in the walls spying on everyone.  It’s gotten rather dull,” he said a bit petulantly.  “Really, I should throw you overboard.  You don’t belong here at all.  Why didn’t you leave after we talked?”

 Crawly shrugged.  “The plants.”

“The plants?”  Aziraphale raised an incredulous eyebrow at him.

“Those idiots brought plants on board then stuck them down in the hold where they’re not going to get any sunlight.”  Crawly rolled serpentine eyes. “ _Someone_ had to keep them alive.  What were those poor sods going to plant for crops if they wilted away?”

He got up to fetch one of the loaves of bread from the shelves, unwrapping it and tearing off a piece to pop in his mouth, a distraction from his concern over the humans’ agricultural future.  Aziraphale looked a bit scandalized. 

“Why are you eating the bread?  Can’t you just miracle up your own?  They’re running out and there’s at least two weeks of rain left.”

“The food I conjure up doesn’t taste as good as handmade stuff.  But the humans won’t know the difference.  I’ll replace the loaf like I will the wine, so stop it.”

Aziraphale huffed, but didn’t mention it the rest of the night.  They drank through several skins of wine while catching each other up on their goings on over the past few hundred years they had lost track of each other.

“Hmm,” sniffed Crawly as the night wore on and the two of them got very drunk.  “Seems like we’re out there running ourselves ragged doing good and evil for no reason.  What’s the next locality the Almighty’s going to decide to flood next time She gets angry?”

“Rainbow,”  hiccupped Aziraphale, his head resting on his arms.  “Remember?”

“Fat lot of good that’s going to do now.  Everyone local’s dead except these people.  Talk about a huge, genetic bottleneck because of it, human and animal. Brilliant idea.”

“I don’t make policy, Crawly.”

Crawly got to his feet unsteadily, staring out the galley window where pinkish-yellow light announced the sunrise.  Shuddering a bit as he sobered up, he returned the wine and bread with a snap of his fingers. 

“So, same time tomorrow night?”

“I wouldn’t be adverse.  It does get lonely around here,” the now-sober Aziraphale replied. 

Where there were human-shaped supernatural beings, there was now a blue-eyed white mouse and a golden-eyed green snake.  The mouse turned to the snake before scampering away.

“That’s a kind thing you’re doing.  Making sure the children don’t starve.” 

“Just shut it,” snapped the snake before slithering off into the shadows.

 

~*~*~

 

Noah had been so busy that day it was mid-afternoon before he got a moment to get himself something to eat.  Eager to just sit down, he sliced himself some bread, grabbed some dried fruit then poured himself a cup of wine.

He stared at the cup of white wine in complete bewilderment.  As far as he remembered, they had only brought red on board.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always model Crowley's snake form after the sorong green tree python. If you've never seen one, they're beautiful green snakes with light blue markings down their backs and yellow eyes sporting vertical slitted pupils. I've always thought that if you're going to be in a Garden tempting people, you should probably be attractive to look at because nobody's going to take the advice of something that resembles nightmare fuel. :)


	2. Where Do We Go from Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wily old serpent and a cute little mouse discuss their near-future plans on the roof of the arc.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a test to myself, I'm keeping chapters at 1000 characters. Maybe there will be a third chapter, but I doubt I could squeeze out anymore than three, to be honest.

Shem swore he saw a mouse streak across the deck as he worked.  Not any mouse, but a white one with a rather lovely pink tail.  Dragging pots of plants out of the hold took strength.  He was tired, so he probably imagined things.  Nothing sitting down with some water out of the sun wouldn’t cure.  He went inside; the mouse watching him from between barrels stored on the deck.

“That was close,” muttered Aziraphale.

He looked more carefully this time.  No humans were in sight, so he quickly scampered up a barrel, leapt to a door frame, wiggled through a hole above it into the rafters of the humans’ quarters, popping out a hole on to the roof.

Blatantly sunning himself out in the open was a green python with blue dorsal markings.  Aziraphale ran over to him, annoyed.

“Someone's going to see you.”

The snake turned a golden eye towards him.  “They won’t.  I’ve arranged things so they don’t notice me.  This shape requires some basking.  Form defines function so I’m cold-blooded right now.”

“That’s absurd.  I’ve been a mouse every day for almost forty days now and I have not taken on any mouse characteristics.”

Snakes may not have had facial expressions but Aziraphale could feel the amusement coming off Crawly.  Hastily he stopped grooming.

“Want to say that again, angel?”

“Say what?”  Aziraphale asked innocently, his whiskers twitching.  “You’re taller, umm, longer, than me.  Mind looking to see how much water’s left?”

“Oh, all right.”  Crawly uncoiled himself and rose up on half his length.  “Well, from what I can tell the water’s receding enough the boat'll ground in the next couple of days, thank _someone_.  I want off this stupid ark.  And they’ve finally taken the suggestion I’ve been planting in their little brains that the crops need to come up on deck.”

“Me, too.  It’s been lovely having you to talk to but it’s really not much fun scampering around in the walls making sure everything’s ship-shape.”  Aziraphale blinked those still-blue eyes.  “Can I see?”

“You want to crawl up on my head?”  Crawly asked.  “Rude.  I thought your lot was more polite than that.  Besides, I don’t go crawling all over you.”

“No, you nearly constricted me.  Please?  I just want a peek.”

“Fiiiine, but be quick.  This is so undignified,” Crawly groused.

“Thank you, Crawly,” replied Aziraphale, climbing up the snake as carefully and swiftly as possible.

“Blasssst it, that ticklessss,” snapped Crawly, hissing as he forgot to suppress it amongst the ticklish sensation.  “Watch the eyessss.  It’ssss not like I can closssse them.”

“Sorry.”

Aziraphale looked out upon the water-logged landscape that was starting to show patches of muddy land here and there.  They were going to be living on that ark for a while, he could tell, unless the Almighty sent a miracle.  He wasn’t going to stay anymore than Crawly would; his mission was done when the waters receded.  One could only spend so much time rodent-shaped, even if one had the company of a not-snake.

He jumped down, landing lightly beside Crawly who lowered himself back to the ground carefully, curling back up.

“In this form I’m more comfortable in a tree,” he muttered.  “Not planning on sticking around much longer are you?”

“Not really.  I can’t stay cooped up in the walls anymore without going crazy.  Where are you going?”

“Maybe China for a few months.  I haven’t been out that way yet.”  Crawly noticed the mouse was becoming hot and offered some shade in his coils.  “You’re going to overheat.  Come sit next to me.  It’s not like I’m going to eat you.”

Aziraphale crawled over; thankful the cover was enough to get a mouse of the sun.  “I’ve never been across the ocean.  I wonder what it’s like in America.”

“I convinced a tribe in the south to worship a feathered serpent.  I think it has a good chance of catching on.”

“Why would you do that?”  Aziraphale’s whiskers twitched in annoyance; he fluffed his fur to soothe himself in true mouse fashion.  He stopped upon realization, hoping his source of shade hadn’t noticed.

Crawly shrugged the best a snake could.  “It was fun.  But I couldn’t stick around long enough to really enjoy it.  I got a commendation for stirring up so much evil that the Almighty thought the human race here unredeemable.”

There was bitterness in his voice, but the angel still gave him as angry of a look as mice could.  “So God decided to drown people because of your work?  I was around the area for almost a thousand years and never saw you.”

Crawly broke into a laugh.  “Do you know how funny you look with your mouth open and those mouse teeth sticking out?  No, I spent an awful amount of time wandering around not bothering to do my job because Hell forgot they stationed me here.”

“Oh.”  There was an embarrassed pause.  “What did you do instead?”

“Drank a lot.  Humans have developed such a knack for fermenting things.  I think I rather like them.”  Crawly uncoiled.  “I’ve had enough basking.  Sun’s going to set soon anyway.”

The two of them retired to the rafters in the galley, Crawly lying in a neat coil on top of a beam in the corner, Aziraphale sitting in his coils not far from his head.   

“Want some company in China?  It’s a lonely flight out there, new territory.”

“Why?  So you can thwart me?”

“No, just to be a familiar face.  I’ll do my thing, you do yours.”

“Well, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.  It’s really not that fun dining and drinking alone in a new place.  I could tolerate you for a month or two.”

“It’s settled then.  We’ll leave soon as the ark grounds and it’s safe to go without being seen.”

Then they sat together in the gathering dark in companionable silence, waiting for night so they could become human for a while and enjoy some wine.


	3. Wind and Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale depart from the ark, but it isn't all smooth sailing.

They stood together on the railing of the ark, the mouse on his hind legs, the python reared up like a cobra, both looking out on the soggy landscape spread before them.  The bright moonlight highlighted the many puddles and broad expanse of sandy mud.

“I understand the desert needed a bit of rehydration, but this is ridiculous.  Ready?”

“Yes.  Let’s go.”  Despite his words, Aziraphale looked worried.

“What’s wrong?”

“What if they need me?”

“The dove brought back an olive branch.  They’ll be fine,” Crawly replied.  “The crops on deck are looking great, too.  They’ll just need to plant them as soon as it’s dry enough.  No children will starve.  Let’s go.”

Crawly slithered down off the rail to transform and soon was standing beside it in Fallen angel form – long black robe tied at the waist with a black sash, long waves of fiery red hair, and the sleekest pair of jet black wings Aziraphale had ever seen. 

Aziraphale felt a little shabby with his loose off-white robe, unruly blond curls and disheveled, discolored white wings.  He walked off a bit to give them both room to extend those long wings for take off. 

Crawly stood there a moment, his head thrown back with his eyes closed.  “China’s that way. C’mon, angel.” 

He pointed east then took off swiftly.  Aziraphale flapped clumsily into the air after him, not as fast or graceful on the wing as the demon.  It was a little embarrassing; he was an angel.  He should be at home at the air, unlike a being who lived in a dimension underground. 

The air was cool and crisp, the wind blowing from the west pushed them forward saving them wingbeats.  Aziraphale stared down at the devastation below him, sadness at the loss of life overcoming him for a moment, and he fell behind.

Crawly had caught an air current and had shot ahead, wings beating lazily like the birds of prey who also rode such currents.  “Try to keep up, Aziraphale!  Get yourself in the current!”

He grinned back at his traveling companion, not knowing if the angel could see him or not.  After over a month trapped on that ark, he was nearly giddy with the freedom flight gave him. 

“Why can’t we transport there?” Aziraphale had finally caught up.

“Because we have to know where we’re transporting to and neither of us have been that far east.  Live a little, angel!”

The landscape streaked by at a dizzying rate; soon they were outside the Flooded area, the ground beneath them a mixture of cultivated areas near rivers and barren desert where no water existed.  Clouds were again forming, some of them the serious-looking thunderstorm variety.  Crawly caught an updraft.

“Watch out there!” he called to Aziraphale who still lagged a bit behind.

Too late.  Aziraphale was not prepared for the current shift, rolled and fell heavily.

“Crawly!”

The demon shot down extremely swiftly, but still wasn’t fast enough to catch up to the angel.  Aziraphale, too panicked to use his magic to do more than slightly cushion his fall, landed with a hollow-sounding crunch. 

“Ohshitohshitohshitohshit!” Crawly was beside him in an instant, checking out the damage.

“I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.  You’ve broken wing bones and primaries.  How’s your head?”

“I didn’t hit it.”  Aziraphale nearly turned in circles trying to see the damage to his wings as the pain finally hit him.  “OhdearGod!”

“Sit down.” 

A stool was conjured out of thin air.  Aziraphale complied since Crawly’s tone suggested he wouldn’t take “no” for an answer.  The demon walked around it, trying to see the damage from behind, but the angel kept turning defensively, keeping them face to face.

“Will you stop it?  I’m not going to rip them out or anything.  I can heal them better than you can because I can see the damage.  Hold still or I’ll leave you here.  Then you can see how hard it’ll be to heal them properly without help.”

“But you’re a demon.”

“So?  If I wanted you out of the way, I would have just eaten you on the boat.”

“Ow!”

“Hold still.  I have to touch them.”

The pain in one broken bone dissipated.  Aziraphale exhaled in relief.  More pain disappeared.  Crawly moved to the other wing, running a hand over it.  A few cuts stood out but no more broken wing bones.  He walked around in front of the angel and placed his hands on his temples.

“What are you doing?”

“Reading for other injures.  Shut up . . . nothing . . . you’re good.”

“We can do that?”

“Yes.  What did you do during the Rebellion?  Stay holed up in Heaven’s library?”  His insult was quite rich coming from a being who didn’t take up arms himself.  “It was a quick way to find injuries and heal them.  The only time demons actually healed each other.” 

“Thank you.  I do appreciate your help, Crawly.”  He started to get up only to be pushed down again.

“Do you groom them?  Ever?  Your wings are a mess.” 

Aziraphale could feel Crawly combing through feathers, aligning them properly.  It felt amazing.  Despite himself, he started to relax under Crawly’s ministrations.  Aziraphale groomed occasionally in the most basic of ways, but it was rare he flew anyway, so he didn’t bother much with them.  He didn’t realize how unkempt they actually were until now.  The demon kept up his work, pulling ragged primaries then using his healing abilities to coax new ones to grow in immediately so Aziraphale could continue their journey. 

“There.  That’ll have to do for now.  If you’re going to hang around me, they’re going to have to look good.  There’s no excuse for letting them go like that.  What’s wrong with you?”

The angel shrugged, embarrassed.  “I barely use them?”

“No excuse,” snapped Crawly.  “I’ll teach you a few things on wing upkeep when we get there.  Now let’s go.”

The demon leapt into the air, the angel hot on his heels.  China was awaiting them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I deliberately had each chapter deal primarily with their experiences in different form of Aziraphale and Crowley -- human-shaped, animal-shaped, angel/demon-shaped. It was quite fun and actually having them in different shapes added some complexity to how I wrote the story. I hope you enjoyed it. :)


	4. Destination (Deleted Chapter)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> China turns out to be anticlimactic. Crawly would rather go to Australia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure about this one so hung on to it. But I'll stick it out there and you can all either enjoy it or say to yourselves after reading it, "You were right, Bentley. You should have let this chapter sit on your hard drive for all eternity."
> 
> Not much is known about China during the Bronze Age. In 3004 BC I did find out there were no dynasties yet and civilization was just beginning to form along the Yellow River. I found more out about Australia's culture around that time, so they end up there by the end of the story. 
> 
> I have one more deleted chapter for the Cold Opens and that's for Golgotha. It's an alternate second chapter I decided not to go with. I'll publish that next week. :)

China had, unfortunately, proven to be rather anticlimactic.  Crawly and Aziraphale had found civilizations along the Yellow River and while these thriving farming villages showed promise, they had yet to develop into the grand dynasties they would one day.  Right now they were small isolated and distrustful of a couple of odd-looking newcomers.

Aziraphale and Crawly had retired to a cave on the outskirts of one village where they were ignored as they contemplated their next move.  For months since Aziraphale was determined to learn a bit about the area.  Crawly was just plain bored, wishing to move on.

“Like Australia will be better,” said the angel as he boiled water in a clay bowl. 

He had discovered a plant whose leaves could be dried than brewed for a sweet drink with floral overtones.  His fondness for a beverage humans wouldn’t discover for another four hundred or so years was growing.  Besides, picking leaves to dry gave him something to do.

“How you can stand that?” asked Crawly from the cave’s entrance where he held a jug full of rice wine.  “It tastes like grass.”

He had snagged his first jug of the alcohol from the village one night on a midnight hunt for something drinkable.  After that, he conjured up jugs of it, finding it a nice change for the swill he had had to consume on the ark.

“You have your chosen drink, I have mine,” replied Aziraphale primly. 

He was not going to let Crawly bait him yet again.  The demon had taken up arguing as a means to alleviate boredom; he had gotten rather good at needling Aziraphale.  Unfortunately for him, Aziraphale had gotten better at ignoring his attempts.

“That still doesn’t change the fact that I’m bored,” complained Crawly petulantly.

“What did you do in Mesopotamia?” asked Aziraphale as his tea steeped. 

“Drank.  Caused some mischief.  Moved on the next village when I wore out my welcome.  And slept,” Crawly grinned at that one.  “Have you ever slept?  What a way to kill eight-ten hours a night.  Dreams… dreams are something else.  Your mind can come up with some weird stuff when you’re asleep.”

“Virtue is ever-vigilant, so no, I’ve never slept,” Aziraphale replied.  “I haven’t ever seen you sleep.”

“What do you think I did while basking?”

Aziraphale made an irritated noise as he ladled tea in a cup.  “I didn’t pay attention to what you were doing while I was busy on the ark and it’s not like snakes have eyelids.  Why don’t you here?”

“It’s cold and damp, not good sleeping conditions in my book.  I like it warm,” replied Crawly, taking another sip.  “I would if I could sleep with something warm… warm weather, a warm blanket that didn’t get damp by morning.”  With a mischievous grin he mock-batted his eyelashes at Aziraphale.  “A warm body.”

“You’re not funny.”

“You’re not fun.  Can we try Australia?”

“Nothing’s holding you here.”

“I like having someone to talk to, ok?  Drink that… stuff and let’s go.  Unless you enjoy hanging out in a damp cave.”

Putting out the fire, Aziraphale followed Crowley skyward.  One long flight later, they landed at the edge of a harbour in the southeast of the country, the dry interior looking rather unwelcoming

“There’s a settlement over there,” Crawly pointed out.  “I wonder if they’re friendly.”

“Hopefully they are,” said Aziraphale.  “We’d better hide our wings before someone finds us.”

Crawly did before he started exploring their immediate surrounds.  A few nearby stones had art carved on them.  Aziraphale was immediately interested, inspecting the line drawings carefully.  Crawley picked up a stone and with the help of his powers started carving a whale into a neighboring rock. 

“Stop.  You don’t need to be vandalizing what are going to be valuable historical artifacts someday.”  Aziraphale took the stone away from him. 

“Fine.  Then I’m going to go introduce myself to the natives.”  Crawly stalked off, disappearing for a worryingly long time. 

When he didn’t return, Aziraphale went in search of him, hoping he didn’t find him discorporated somewhere.  Instead, he found Crawly seated in a circle of dark-skinned people enjoying some kind of meal with them.  He was playfully shooing away children who were fascinated by his long curly red hair so different from their shorter darker hair. 

“They’re really friendly here.  I think they trade with other cultures because they didn’t mind me at all,” the demon said to Aziraphale.  “Although be prepared.  The kids’ll be interested in your hair.  I think only dark colours are common here.”

And so they stayed, living among these people who fished, farmed and traded, picking up a new language and absorbing their stories, told verbally, in songs and dances.  Crawly was far from bored while Aziraphale learned everything he could about these people.  The months went by with the two of them barely noticing.

Crawly enjoyed learning about food and drink; Aziraphale spent considerable amount of time with the village elders who taught him the oral traditions of their culture.  One day he offered up a song from his own “culture” – a soft song of hope and renewal.

Crawly had never heard him sing, stopping short while he listened to the song.  It was haunting, lovely and sung in a language Crawly hadn’t heard in thousands of years.  Later, he accosted Aziraphale.

“I didn’t know you sang.  That was beautiful.”

“Thank you.  Not often I do.”

“I haven’t heard Enochian since I Fell.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.  I enjoyed it.  I wish you’d sing more often.”

“Well, I don’t really have the voice for it.”

Crawly shook his head.  “Not true.  Anyway, I have to be going.”

“Oh?” said Aziraphale.

“Hell found me.  I’m off to just outside the Flooded area.  Temptations to do,” he sighed.

“I’m sure Heaven will be close behind, then,” said Aziraphale, disappointed he’d have to leave the tribe.

“No rest for us.  I’ll see you later?”

“Definitely.  We can’t seem to help but run into each other.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured a culture used to trading would be more accepting of a blond and a redhead in a region of Earth where darker hair is more prominent than an isolated culture. The Solomon Islands are close to Australia. Blond hair exists there in the native populations and has since before whites came to the area. It is likely that if trade happened between the two cultures, the tribe our angel and demon came across just might have seen something other darker hair depending on whom they traded with and who was seafaring at the time. 
> 
> I think this is the first I've ever mentioned actial skin colour in my writing. I've always left that fill-in-the-blank because I don't see any reason why a blond angel or a redheaded demon are restricted to lighter skin shades. But native Australians aren't going to be lily white by any stretch of the imagination.


End file.
